


Butterfly Markings

by clarkes_murphy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, but i won't spoil that for y'all until i upload the chapter, so this is mainly fluff and stuff, there will be some slightly heavy stuff in chapter three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkes_murphy/pseuds/clarkes_murphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke meets Lexa after a chance encounter at the beach, and she soon finds herself dreaming of wild curly hair and forest green eyes and pouty lips.</p><p>or</p><p>AU where Clarke's playing volleyball with her friends and someone accidentally hits a beer keg and Lexa ends up covered in beer and she's not too happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun shines down on Polis beach as the waves lap gently at the shore, blue meeting gold in a beautiful blend of colours. Beachgoers are strewn along the stretch of sand, some splashing in the shallows, others languishing in the sun's rays. 

"Clarke, it's yours!"

Clarke's eyes shoot up as the ball sails towards her. Extending one arm, she smacks it down with her palm and watches as it flies over the net and thumps onto the sand on the other side.

"And that's 4 to zero!" Clarke crows, grinning as her teammates engulf her in a group hug. 

"You guys are such sore winners," Bellamy grumbles from the other side of the net. 

"Or maybe you're just a sore loser," Clarke shoots back, exchanging a high five with Octavia before collapsing onto the sand. "Man, I need a drink."

"I’ll get it!" Jasper says eagerly.

Clarke watches as he trots over to the food truck by the parking lot, his legs looking even skinnier than usual as they poke out of his billowing board shorts. 

"He's really trying to impress us, huh?" 

"More like he's trying to impress Octavia," Raven smirks, coming to sit beside Clarke and stretching out her leg, wincing a little as her brace jars for a moment. 

"Well, too bad I'm taken," Octavia smiles, sitting next to Raven and flinging her arm around the other girl's shoulders. "Leg doing okay, Rey?"

Raven leans in and pecks Octavia on the lips. "Just peachy, babe." 

"You two are so gross," Clarke grumbles, lying back on the sand and flinging her arm over her face. She hears Raven and Octavia giggling beside her and rolls her eyes. "Like I said, gross."

"Don't be a hater just because you're jealous, Griffin."

"Oh, shut up Raven." 

They stay like that for a few minutes until Jasper returns with their drinks. A short rest and half a bottle of Gatorade later and Clarke is raring to go, hopping from one foot to the other while she waits for the others.

"Okay, let's mix it up a bit this time," Clarke speaks, "Make things a bit more even for you sulkers on the losing team." 

"Not funny."

"Be quiet, Bellamy." Clarke pauses, surveying the group stood before her. "Okay, I'll take Jasper and Harper this time. Bellamy, you take Octavia and Monroe." 

She catches Octavia's sigh of resignation and watches as she traipses over to the other side and shoots a look of disdain at her brother. 

"Octavia and Bellamy still not getting on, huh?" Clarke mumbles to Raven, who has stood up to resume her position as umpire.

"Ah, they'll be okay. He just needs to loosen the reins a little, let her be her own person,” Raven arches her back as she stretches. “And he really needs to stop coming over to her apartment unannounced because there have been one too many times where he's caught us having se-"

"Whoa, okay! That’s enough information, thank you." 

Clarke pseudo-barfs as her best friend winks at her.

"Just telling it like it is, Griffin. You'd know what I was talking about if you actually tried to talk to someone who wasn't in our friend group."

Clarke levels a tight-lipped smile at her best friend. "Let's just get on with the game."

Raven shrugs. "Whatever you say. Okay people, let's go! Game starts in five, four, three..."

The volleyball soars over the net and the game begins. Clarke and Harper make a great team, but Jasper isn't much help, choosing to run away from the ball rather than interact with it. 

"Damn it, Jasper! It's not a nuclear bomb, just hit the damn thing." 

Jasper nods curtly, eyes wide. 

"Alright, Jas, this one's coming to you," Harper calls, watching the ball fly towards him.

He tenses in a half squat, legs bent at the knee. His eyes follow the ball until it is almost on top of him, and then his arm snaps up, pummelling the ball with a fist and a loud grunt. He raises his arms, ready to celebrate.

"Jasper, you idiot!"

His head whips around to see the ball ricocheting across the beach towards a couple of sunbathers.

"Damn it," Clarke hisses, racing in the direction of the ball. But she’s too late to catch it and can only watch as it collides with a beer keg and dislodges the spout, sticky liquid spraying all over the pair lying beside it. They jump up, one crying out as beer clings to her sleek long-sleeved swimshirt, the other looking down angrily at the spatters of beer that now decorate her bikini. 

Clarke runs over, cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Oh my god I'm so sorry, it was a total accident, my idiot teammate is terrible at volleyball–"

She stops in her tracks when one of the girls, the brunette, lifts her head and looks at her, irritation creasing the corners of her eyes.

"This is a brand new surf top." Her voice is low, almost a growl.  
Clarke can't help but let her eyes glance down; the wet fabric clings to the girl in all the right places, and Clarke finds her breath hitching in her throat when she sees muscular arms and long legs and a tight stomach and–

"Excuse me?" 

Clarke raises her eyes. 

"Are you going to do something about this? Or are you just going to stand there all day and stare at my sister?" This is the other girl, her dirty blonde hair trailing over her tattooed shoulders.

Clarke's skin bristles. "Like I said, it was an accident. But I'm sorry." 

The brunette's shoulders relax slightly. 

"Can I buy you both a drink to make up for it?" 

She glances behind her and sees her friends watching. 

"And you can join our game of volleyball, if you want." 

Clarke doesn’t know why she’s inviting them to play. Maybe it’s because she feels bad for the beer spillage. Or maybe it’s because the cute brunette is staring at her through luscious brown curls and she wants nothing more than to bury her fingers in those curls and pull on them. 

Where the fuck did that come from?

Clarke shakes her head, blinking at the two girls. "So, how about it? Fancy a game?"

"Sure, why not?" 

The blonde girl begins walking until she’s ahead of Clarke, only stopping to beckon her sister forward. Then they both trail beside Clarke until they are back with her friends, the group watching Clarke approach with the strangers.

"Um, guys. We've got some new players joining us," Clarke smiles tentatively. "This is, um..." 

"Anya," the blonde speaks with confidence, holding out her hand to Bellamy who shakes it somewhat confusedly. "And that's Lexa."

Clare glances at the other girl; she’s stood behind Anya, arms crossed over her stomach, hands tucked under her elbows. 

"Lexa? Wanna be on my team?" Clarke asks softly.

Lexa nods timidly. 

"Okay, so Anya, that means you're on Bellamy's team." 

Anya strides over the sand to join Bellamy, Octavia, and Monroe, a cocky smirk toying at her lips.

"Clarke!" Raven calls. 

Clarke trots over to where Raven is perched in a deck chair. "Yeah?"

"So you can do it."

Clarke frowns. "Do what?"

"Talk to other people. Very ~cute~ people, might I add."

"Just shut up and do your job," Clarke quips, shoving Raven playfully before re-joining the others on the court. 

"Okay, are we all ready? Game starts in five, four, three..."

They play for another hour until the sun begins to set. Clarke's team emerge victorious, and their whoops echo along the emptying beach. 

"Yeah, yeah, lap it up. We're gonna kick your butts next time."

"Whatever you say, Anya," Lexa grins.

Clarke finds herself fixated on Lexa and the way the sun dances across her freckled skin. She realises she’s staring when Lexa turns and meets her gaze, and her eyes quickly drop to study the sand at her feet.

Raven limps over to the group, a content smile on her face as she laces her fingers with Octavia's. "So, we're all heading to Underground tonight. You two wanna tag along?" 

Anya raises one eyebrow. "Isn't that a club?"

Raven nods.

"I would, but clubbing isn't really Lexa's thi–"

"I'd love to."

Lexa blurts out the words and Clarke stares, at her plump lips and the dusting of freckles across her cheekbones and the way the light reflects off her eyes and makes them look like pieces of sea glass.

"Alright! We're gonna head home to shower and make ourselves pretty–"

("You're always pretty, Rey," Octavia smiles).

(Clarke rolls her eyes again). 

"–and then we'll meet at the club at eight?"

Raven's words are met with nods and a couple of cheers, and then they start packing up their things and heading back to their cars. Jasper clambers in with Harper and Monroe, while Octavia jumps in with Raven and Bellamy. Clarke lingers by her own car, finger drumming on the roof as she toys with her keys. 

"Hey!" 

Anya and Lexa are walking towards the main road, but stop when Clarke's voice floats over to them.

"Um, do you guys want a lift?"

Clarke is sure she sees Lexa almost smile. 

"You sure?" Anya calls back. "We were just gonna get the bus..." 

"Yeah, it's no problem. Least I can do." 

Anya shrugs, turning and walking back down the slope until she’s by Clarke's car, Lexa lingering behind her. 

"Shotgun!" Anya shouts, flinging open the door to the front passenger seat before Lexa even has a chance to react. 

"Looks like you're in the back," Clarke smiles apologetically.

Lexa’s eyes soften when Clarke holds the door open for her.

"Thanks." Her voice is gentle.

Clarke shuts the door behind her and then strides around to the driver's side, clicking in her belt buckle before turning the key. The car rumbles to life and music begins playing softly from the radio. 

"Where do you live?"

"Eastwood Avenue, by the station." 

Clarke nods, pulling out of the gravelly parking lot and joining the slew of cars on the main road. They arrive at the house about fifteen minutes later, the journey mostly a silent one interspersed with quiet singing from Anya. 

"Meeting at eight, right?" Anya turns to face Clarke.

"Yep."

"Cool. See you there. Lex, let's go."

Anya climbs out of the car, opening Lexa's door for her. Lexa's foot catches on the doorframe and she stumbles, face flushing red.

"Thanks for the lift," she mumbles to Clarke, pushing the door shut and scurrying up the steps to their apartment without looking back.  
Clarke waits until they are inside and then lets her head fall forward, her forehead resting on the steering wheel. She can't stop picturing Lexa – the way her eyes had lingered for a moment too long when Clarke flexed her shoulder blades to stretch during the game; the way their fingers had brushed when Lexa had handed her the ball; the way she could feel Lexa silently studying her from the backseat of the car. 

***

She drives home quickly, wanting the time to speed up so she can see Lexa again. She showers and washes her hair, watching as grains of sand sluice off her body and into the drain, immersing herself in the fruity smell of shampoo that permeates the air. 

Fifteen minutes later and she’s midway through drying her hair when there’s a knock at the door. Pulling her towel closer to her body, she tiptoes across the carpet, water droplets still clinging to her skin.

"Hello?"

"It's me, you dork."

Clarke opens the door with a wry grin. "Raven. What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be picking me up for another hour."

"I saw you drive off with two hot girls and you expect me to wait another hour for the details? It's like you don't know me at all."

Clarke laughs as Raven waltzes into her apartment, instantly making herself at home on the sofa. She loves how comfortable Raven is around her, and cherishes how close they are and how much Raven cares about her, even though Raven would never admit it.

“So go and make yourself decent, and then you can tell me all about your wild car ride,” Raven smirks.

Clarke sticks her tongue out at Raven before heading back to her bedroom. She hears low chatter coming from the TV and smiles to herself as she continues getting ready.

“Get a move on, Griffin!” Comes Raven’s voice a little while later.

“Okay, okay!” Clarke stumbles out of her room holding two pairs of heels. “Quick, help me – which pair goes better with my outfit?”

“I don’t know, the black ones?”

“Rey! I need to look good tonight, try to be helpful for once.”

A sly grin appears on Raven’s face. “You need to look good? And why’s that, huh?”

Clarke averts her eyes.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the cutie who rode in the back of your car earlier today, would it?”

This earns a scowl from Clarke.

“I knew it! Don’t think I didn’t notice you two eye-fucking each other during that last game. I’m a very good umpire.”

“Just… help me choose a pair or stop talking,” Clarke gripes.

“Alright, alright,” Raven holds up her hands in mock surrender, “The red ones. They make your ass look amazing.”

This puts a smile on Clarke's face. “Thanks, Rey.”

“S’what I’m here for. Now hurry up or we’re gonna go from ‘fashionably late’ to ‘needs to buy a damn watch’.”

Clarke rushes back to her room, throwing a jacket over her shoulders. She stops for one last look at herself in the mirror – hair curled and cascading down her shoulders, little black dress hugging her curves, breasts straining against the material in a way that makes them sit just right – yeah, she looks good. 

***

They spend the car journey catching up – Clarke fills Raven in on what had happened with Lexa and Anya, and Raven tells Clarke about how Bellamy and Octavia got into another fight on their way home from the beach and how, as a result of that, he wouldn’t be joining them tonight. 

“Shame,” Clarke mutters, not really meaning it at all. Bellamy had been weird with her ever since she had turned down his offer of a date a few months ago, so the less she saw of him, the happier she was. 

Twenty minutes later and they’re pulling into the club car park, Raven finding a spot by Octavia’s recognisable Yamaha motorcycle.

“Guess your lady’s already here, then.” Clarke doesn’t miss the way Raven’s eyes light up when she sees the familiar bike.

Octavia has already commandeered a table and is sitting with Jasper, who’s mooning over her like a lovesick dog. His face drops when Raven ambles over and wraps Octavia in a hug, Clarke biting her cheek to keep from smiling. She feels bad for the kid, but she doesn’t understand why he keeps going after girls who are clearly not interested in him.

“So,uh, who else is here?” Clarke asks, trying to sound casual.

Octavia quirks up an eyebrow. “Lexa’s not here yet.”

“How did you kn– Raven!”

“Sorry, Griff,” Raven shrugs, arm slung around Octavia’s shoulders, “Me and my girl don’t have secrets.”

“Disgusting,” Clarke mutters.

“Monroe and Harper are at the bar getting drinks, if you wanna join them,” Jasper chips in.

“Thanks.”

Weaving her way through the throngs of people, Clarke comes to a stop at the bar, elbows resting on the sticky surface. A minute later and she’s faced with an overly-enthusiastic barman asking what she’d like to drink.

“Vodka and coke, please.”

“I’ll have the same!” 

Clarke turns to see Anya behind her, a grin on her face.

“You came!” Clarke cranes her neck a little to look at the person hidden behind Anya. “Hey, Lexa.” Her voice is softer this time.

Lexa replies with a small wave and a smile.

“So, are you getting these drinks or what? Some of us didn’t come here to stand around making heart-eyes at people, y’know.”

“Oh, right,” Clarke blinks rapidly, tearing her eyes away from Lexa’s to face the barman once again. “Two vodka and cokes, please, and…”

She looks at Lexa, a question in her eyes.

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

Clarke halts for a moment – she hadn’t expected Lexa to order something so tough – before repeating the order back with a friendly smile. A minute passes and then drinks are being handed round, Anya accepting hers with a wink while Lexa gives Clarke a quiet “Thanks.” They walk across the dancefloor and join the others in the circular booth, Anya wedging herself in next to Jasper while Clarke squeezes in next to Raven, Lexa sliding in to sit on her right.

“So what do you think of the place so far?” Jasper pipes up, head propped up on his hands while he stares at Anya.

“It’s cool, yeah,” she replies, “Not enough girls for me to flirt with though.”

Raven’s eyes fill with mirth as Jasper’s shoulders slump in defeat.

“Maybe next time, eh Jas?” she calls over the table.

“Yeah, right,” he mutters, knocking back his shot of tequila before staggering onto the dancefloor.

“I’d better go keep an eye on him,” Octavia mutters, dragging Raven with her.

Realising that they’re the only two left at the table, Clarke moves over a little, looping an arm around Lexa’s waist and pulling her further into the booth. 

Then she leans closer to Lexa, lips at her ear. “Jasper’s been a bit delicate since his last girlfriend dumped him. Keeps trying to hook up with every girl he meets, he thinks it’ll help distract him.”

“Maybe it will,” Lexa replies broodingly. 

Clarke frowns as she takes a sip of her drink. She’s starting to learn that Lexa is not an easy person to figure out.

“So, um, what do you do? Like, as a job?”

Lexa tentatively meets her gaze. “I work with children.”

Clarke smiles. “Oh, you’re a teacher?”

“Not really, uh, more like a therapist? I help them work through their issues using music and art.”

“Wow. That’s amazing, Lexa.”

Lexa ducks her head to hide her blush, taking a delicate sip of her drink through the bright green straw before looking back up at Clarke. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you do?”

“Oh,” Clarke chuckles, “I’m a mechanic.”

Lexa’s eyes widen a little. “A mechanic?”

“Yeah. Raven’s dad owns a garage not far from here and after I graduated from university I needed a job, so he hired me and trained me up and now I help him out in the shop.”

Lexa’s eyes wander down Clarke’s toned arms. “You look like you do a lot of physical stuff.”

Now it’s Clarke’s turn to blush as one side of her mouth lifts into a smile. “I’m an artist too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, that’s what I studied at university. But there isn’t much call for a budding artist here, so Mr Reyes is basically saving my ass and letting me earn some money while I try to get my stuff out there in the art world.”

“That’s kind of him.” 

Lexa pauses. 

“So, I have a question… uh, how would you like to join one of my classes at the center sometime? Help the kids with their art? I’m sure they’d be excited about having a professional artist come to visit them.”

“I’d love to,” Clarke smiles, mirroring Lexa’s words from earlier that day.

They both take a sip of their drinks, giggling when Clarke’s straw bobs up and down a bit too violently and flies out of her glass and onto the floor. She moves to get another but Lexa places a hand on her arm, offering Clarke the straw in her own drink. Clarke scoots a little closer, wrapping her hand around the glass – Lexa’s fingers are still clutching it and now Clarke’s fingers are touching hers and she can feel Lexa’s soft skin beneath her fingertips and oh god this is all too much – before taking a sip of the clear liquid. The burn in her throat is unexpected but not unpleasant, and she smiles as Lexa places her glass down on the table.

“Wanna dance?”

A nod from Lexa and then Clarke is grasping her hand as she stands and leads her to the dancefloor. Multi-coloured tiles stretch from wall to wall, illuminating Lexa as she twirls in front of Clarke, who finally has a full view of Lexa’s outfit. She stands, mesmerised, watching Lexa spin – she’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with a waistcoat, and a pair of tight black jeans with boots. She looks incredible.

“Are you gonna dance with me or what?”

Clarke shakes herself out of her daze and steps forward, gasping when Lexa’s hands find her hips. They begin to sway together, Clarke keeping her eyes glued to Lexa’s fingers pressed against her waist.

“You can look at me, you know.” Lexa’s voice is low and sultry and it makes Clarke’s whole body jolt. 

She lifts her head and is suddenly caught in Lexa’s gaze, sea green staring into sky blue.

“I like you.” 

The words have left her mouth before she can really think about them.

“Shit, Lexa, I wasn’t meant to–”

“I like you too, Clarke.”

They stare into each other’s eyes for a heartbeat, and then Clarke is leaning in, lips close to Lexa’s. So close…

“Clarke!”

She is yanked away from Lexa, who stumbles back, looking a little hurt.

“Clarke, we gotta go.”

“Why?!”

Octavia’s face is sombre. “Because Maya is here and if we don’t get Jasper out of here right now and he sees her then he’s gonna flip out.”

“Crap, okay.” Clarke turns to Lexa, taking her hand. “I’m so sorry but I really have to go.”

Lexa nods, composed. “It’s okay, Clarke. Your friend needs you.”

Clarke fumbles in her bag, pulling out her phone. “I’d really like to see you again, though. If you want.”

Lexa doesn’t reply right away – she seems taken aback, and Clarke thinks she’s misinterpreted the signals. But then Lexa relaxes a little and smiles, taking Clarke’s phone from her outstretched hand and keying in her number.

“I’ll call you,” Clarke promises, lifting Lexa’s hand to her lips and brushing a soft kiss to her palm.

And then she’s gone, whisking Jasper out of the club and into Harper’s car. Anya saunters over to Lexa, who’s now standing alone at the bar.

“You’ve got it bad, kiddo.”

Lexa stiffens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine, play dumb. You’ll talk to me about it soon enough.”

Lexa watches as Anya glides back onto the dancefloor, joining a group of dancing girls. Sighing, she finishes her drink before ordering another one, finding an empty stool towards the end of the bar. She rests her hand on her thigh, looking at the red outline left on her hand by Clarke’s lipstick. And then she’s smiling, fingers tracing the imprint of Clarke’s lips on her skin. Shit. She really has got it bad.


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke calls Lexa a few days later and can’t believe how hard her heart thumps in her chest when she hears her voice. They start out simple, talking on the phone every few days, having general discussions about movies and books and music. But Clarke wants to know more, and so one sunny Thursday afternoon she picks up the phone and dials Lexa’s number (somehow she already has it memorised) and waits, breath catching when she hears Lexa’s voice.

_“Hey, Clarke.”_

“Hey.”

A pause. _“Everything okay?”_

“Uh, yeah, yeah. I just, um, wanted to ask you something.”

Another pause. Crap. Clarke is terrible at this.

_“What is it?”_

Lexa’s voice is patient. It soothes Clarke a little.

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for a drink tomorrow? Somewhere quiet, where we can actually talk.” She lets out a nervous laugh.

_“That sounds great.”_

Clarke releases the breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

“Okay, when are you free?”

Another pause.

_“Well, I’m actually going to be with the kids tomorrow, so maybe… I don’t know, maybe you could stop by the therapy center, see the kids for a bit…”_ Lexa tails off, sounding unsure.

Clarke’s heart swells. “That sounds brilliant. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there at, um…”

_“Two should be fine.”_

Clarke can hear the smile in Lexa’s voice. “Then we’ll grab a drink afterwards?”

_“I’d like that.”_

***

_“Nervous?”_

Raven’s voice crackles through the phone as Clarke holds it between her ear and her shoulder while she rifles through her clothes. “You have no idea.”

_“You’ll be fine, Griff. Just be yourself, or something.”_

Clarke rolls her eyes even though Raven can’t see her. “Thanks, Rey. You always know what to say.”

_“That’s what I’m here for! Anyway I gotta go, Octavia's here with ice cream and a pile of Nicholas Sparks’ movies.”_

“Just when I think it can’t get any grosser, it does,” Clarke laughs.

_“Love you too! And call me after your date.”_

“I’m not sure if it’s actually a da–”

But Raven’s already gone and Clarke is left in silence, still agonising over what to wear. She settles on dark blue jeans and a white blouse – casual, but not too casual. She plucks her straw boater hat off a shelf along with her favourite sunglasses and then heads out the door, shoving her keys into her bag which she slings over one shoulder.

***

Clarke’s GPS gets her to the therapy center for just after two. She strolls into the foyer, taking note of the adorable paintings that are hung all over the white brick walls. A man greets her from behind a desk, glasses so big that they’re slipping off his nose. His name tag reads Monty.

“Good afternoon.”

“Um, hi.” Clarke shuffles awkwardly from one foot to another. “I’m Clarke, Clarke Griffin. Here to see Lexa– uh, Miss Woods?”

The man consults a sheet pinned to a corkboard on his left. “Ah, yes! I just need to give you a visitor’s pass and then you’re good to go.” He presents Clarke with a laminated card on a lanyard, shooting her a reassuring smile. “Just head down the corridor and it’s the first room on your left.”

“Thanks,” Clarke smiles back, nerves eased a little by his charming demeanour.

She finds the room easily enough but has to stand outside for a minute or so until her breathing has calmed. Then she knocks lightly on the door, watching through the glass pane as Lexa scurries over, a huge smile on her face.

“Clarke!”

She’s taken by surprise when Lexa embraces her in a hug, but quickly melts into it, savouring the feeling of Lexa’s arms around her.

“I’m so glad you could make it.”

Clarke tugs on her sleeve nervously as she follows Lexa into the room. She feels dozens of eyes following her and turns to wave at the children, some of whom wave back, while others just stare.

“They’re not used to having visitors,” Lexa murmurs. She motions for Clarke to take a seat at the front of the room before launching into a little speech, telling the children who Clarke is and why she’s there. Despite their wariness, they clap excitedly when Lexa reveals that Clarke will be helping them paint, and Lexa turns to Clarke, her face lit up with a smile.

“Okay, who wants to paint with Miss Griffin first?”

Twelve hands shoot into the air and Lexa laughs.

“Alright, how about we go in alphabetical order? Aden, you’re up first.”

A small boy with tousled blonde hair stands and walks up to the front, while the other children rush to a box in the corner and begin pulling out brushes and pots of paint.

“Clarke, this is Aden.”

Clarke crouches down so she’s at eye level with the boy. “Hello, Aden. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“S’nice to meet you too,” he squeaks.

Clarke likes him already. Lexa leads them over to an easel and hands them both a paint palette and a brush.

“What do I do now?” Clarke whispers.

“Just talk to him. That’s the thing these kids love the most, talking to people. And show him something cool he can do with the paint, or maybe some brush strokes.”

“Okay,” Clarke nods, thankful when Lexa places a hand on the small of her back for a brief moment. It’s a comforting gesture and allows Clarke to collect herself and focus on Aden, who is gazing up at her with admiration in his eyes.

“Is it true you’re a proper artist?”

Clarke nods, giggling when the boy’s mouth falls open with a quiet “Whoa.”

“Want me to show you some cool stuff?”

“Yes please yes please yes please!” Aden jumps up and down, squealing with excitement.

“Okay then, here we go.”

The lesson continues on like this, each child waiting eagerly for their turn with Clarke at the easel. Clarke’s jeans and hands are covered in paint by the end of it, but she doesn’t even care because the kids are all grouped together on the carpet now and they’re smiling up at her and her chest is filled with a wonderful warmth. Lexa walks to the front of the group, hands clasped in front of her.

“So, kids, did you all have fun with Miss Griffin today?”

A chorus of “Yes!” rings out across the room and Clarke laughs shyly.

“Well, it was great to be here and spend some time with you all.”

“Will you come back?” a small voice pipes up. It’s Aden, eyes peeking out from the back of the group.

“If Miss Woods would like me to come back, yes.”

Clarke chances a glance at Lexa, who’s using her hand to try and hide her massive grin as she clears her throat.

“I think we’d all like that very much.”

The children cheer once more before Lexa tells them to pack away the supplies and prepare for their parents’ arrival. Clarke walks over to Lexa’s desk when she’s gathering sheets of paper together, poking Lexa gently in the side. Lexa straightens up, smiling a little.

“So, Miss Griffin, did you enjoy yourself?”

Clarke wrinkles her nose, pretending to think about it.

Lexa nudges her with her shoulder: “Come on, tell me what you thought.”

“It was lovely.” Clarke’s voice is earnest and Lexa beams, only tearing her eyes away from Clarke’s when the door swings open and parents start pouring into the room.

They leave quickly and soon Clarke and Lexa are alone.

“So, drinks?”

Lexa gives a relieved nod then follows Clarke out to the parking lot. They each get into their own car, Lexa tailing Clarke as she follows her to the bar. They arrive shortly after, parking down a side road a few cars apart from each other. Clarke chuckles as Lexa struggles to open her car door, and is delighted when Lexa does the cutest pout she’s ever seen through the car window.

Eventually they make it into the bar, Clarke striding ahead and finding a small table in a secluded corner.

“More private,” she states, almost missing the way Lexa’s cheeks flush when she says it.

They stay in the bar for what feels like minutes but is actually hours. Clarke casually checks her watch while she’s mid-sip and almost chokes on her cocktail when she remembers that she was supposed to drive Raven to a physiotherapy session that afternoon. She gives Raven a quick call, only to have her panic eased immediately when Octavia answers the phone and reassures her that she’s got it all under control: “We figured you’d be having too much fun on your date so I took the afternoon off work so I could take Raven. No big deal, Clarke.”

(Clarke sends out a silent prayer to the universe for giving her such amazing friends).

Then their date continues and Clarke learns so much about Lexa – how she likes watching nature documentaries in her free time, how Anya’s her only sibling, how her dream job as a child was to be a knight, how her favourite flavour of candy is blue.

(Clarke insists that blue isn’t a flavour but Lexa has a stubbornness to match her own and so they just agree to disagree, Clarke laughing at Lexa’s defiant scowl).

There’s a moment when Lexa is speaking and Clarke reaches out and slowly trails her fingers down her arm. She stops at Lexa’s wrist, fingertips teasing under the sleeve of Lexa’s shirt, wanting to feel the softness of her skin. But Lexa’s face darkens rapidly and she pulls her hand back, crossing her arms across her chest.

Clarke feels a wall rise up between them, but she doesn’t know why. “Lexa?”

But Lexa won’t look at her, eyes glued to her lap.

“Lexa, whatever I did to upset you, I’m sorry.”

Lexa sighs, finally raising her eyes to meet Clarke’s worried gaze.

“It’s not– you didn’t do anything.” Her voice is quiet, like if she speaks too loud then she’ll shatter into pieces.

“Then what’s wrong?” Clarke leans forward, hands flat on the table.

“It’s nothing,” Lexa stands abruptly. “I have to go.”

“Wha– wait, Lexa!”

But she’s up before Clarke can even move, dropping some money onto the table before racing out of the bar. Clarke’s too confused to follow her. She just buries her face in her hands and groans. Her phone chimes in her pocket a few seconds later and she pulls it out, hoping it’s Lexa even though she knows it won’t be.

Raven’s name shows up on the glowing screen. Clarke presses the green button begrudgingly, knowing that if she doesn’t answer now then Raven will just keep calling until she does.

_“Griffin! It’s been like six hours, dude. How was the date?”_

Clarke sighs. “Actually, it didn’t–”

_“Wait, is she still there? I haven’t interrupted anything, have I?”_

“No, Raven, because she–”

_“Because you can totally tell me to get lost if you guys are in the middle of something, I just wanted to check and make sure you weren’t dead or anythi–”_

“Raven, she left.”

There’s a moment of silence and all Clarke can hear is Raven’s breathing. And then-

_“What do you mean, she left? Where did she go? Is she coming back? What the hell happened?!”_

Clarke rehashes the story for Raven, who, by the end of it, is just as baffled as she is.

“I just don’t get why she randomly shut me out like that. I swear, I didn’t do anything.”

_“I know, Clarke. I believe you.”_

Raven hears the desperation in Clarke’s voice and knows this isn’t a time for jokes.

_“Maybe try calling her tomorrow? See if she’s cooled down a bit?”_

Clarke nods, before replying with a quick “Yeah, maybe.”

_“Octavia and I are having games night tonight with the gang, wanna come over?”_

“Thanks, but no. I just want to go home.”

Raven feels her heart break a little when she hears how Clarke’s voice is laced with dejection.

_“Okay, well, you know where to find me. Love you.”_

“Love you too,” Clarke mumbles, before hanging up and shoving her phone back into her pocket.

She calls over a waiter and pays the bill in full, then picks up the money that Lexa left on the table and puts it in her bag, planning on giving it back to her when they see each other again.

If they see each other again.

But she pushes that thought out of her mind – even thinking about the possibility of never seeing Lexa again sends a sharp spasm of pain through her chest. So she ignores it, driving home and knocking back a couple of sleeping pills, hoping they’ll quieten the worries in her mind long enough to allow her to sleep; even though she knows they’ll return as soon as she wakes up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna put a trigger warning here for a brief mention of self-harm in this chapter.

Three days pass. Raven keeps bugging Clarke to bite the bullet and call Lexa but something is stopping her, so instead she just waits and hopes that Lexa will reach out to her.

Three days later she does, Clarke’s phone lighting up as a text appears on the screen:

**I’m sorry about how I acted the other day. You deserve an explanation.**

Clarke sighs, balling her hand into a fist before typing out a response.

**Are you okay? I miss you.**

(No, too intense, Clarke scolds herself before deleting it and starting again).

**Can we meet? I want to talk to you in person.**

(Better).

A minute later and her phone lights up.

**Anya’s out all day. You can come over to my place, if you want?**

Clarke’s breathing speeds up.

**Okay. I remember where it is. I’ll be there in an hour.**

Clarke sets her phone down for a moment before picking it up again and typing out a quick message to Raven. Seconds pass and then the air is filled with pings as messages arrive one after the other, but she ignores them and goes to the bathroom to take a shower. Half an hour later and she’s clean and dressed, leg jiggling as she stares at her car keys where they hang lifelessly on the hook by the door.

She skims through the messages from Raven, sending a text assuring her that’s she’s okay and that she’ll speak to her later, before grabbing her keys with sudden determination and marching out of her apartment and down the stairs to the parking bay.

***

Lexa is waiting by the front door when Clarke pulls into the driveway. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun and she’s wearing an oversized hoodie and grey sweatpants. She raises her hand as if to wave but then seems to decide against it, lowering her hand and grasping at her tracksuit drawstrings instead.

Clarke gets out of the car slowly, closing the door with a soft click. She admires the flowers blooming on either side of the short pathway that leads up to the house, beautiful shades of violet and crimson and emerald.

“My aunt planted those.” Lexa’s voice is quiet.

Clarke nods appreciatively before following Lexa as she turns and heads into the house. She takes a moment to marvel at its grandeur – what it lacks in size, it makes up for in beauty – and she stares, awestruck, at the marble floors and large French windows and a wrought-iron bannister that snakes up a twisting flight of stairs.  
Lexa leads Clarke into a cosy room that is filled with overstuffed sofas and a large television, gesturing for Clarke to take a seat.

“Um, would you like a drink?” Lexa fiddles with her bracelet. “We have water, juice, wine, beer–”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” Clarke nods.

Lexa gives her a curt smile before heading into the kitchen, returning moments later with a glass of water that she hands to Clarke.

“Thank you.”

Clarke’s on edge – she doesn’t like the tension between them but she doesn’t know how to break it.

“So, um, are you okay?”

Clarke frowns. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I’m not the one who was left in the middle of a date with no explanation,” Lexa replies dryly.

“Okay, yeah, fair point,” Clarke says. “So, wanna explain?”

Lexa takes a deep breath before sitting next to Clarke, angling her body so they’re facing each other.

“First of all, I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just walked out on you like that.”

Clarke’s heart aches when she sees the guilt in Lexa’s eyes. “It’s okay, Lexa. Just tell me what happened.”

“Okay, I just need a moment.”

Clarke can see Lexa’s chest fluttering, can hear her breathing speeding up, and she shuffles forward until her knee is touching Lexa’s and she rests her hands gingerly on Lexa’s thighs.

“Take all the time you need.”

Lexa manages a tiny smile, her lips quivering as she takes another deep breath.

“Okay, so, um, I told you that Anya and I were basically raised by my aunt and uncle.”

Clarke nods.

“And that my parents died when we were pretty young.”

Another nod.

“Well, uh, dealing with that, at a young age… it didn’t go too well.”

Lexa’s breath jolts and she brings her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she closes her eyes.

“It’s okay, Lexa,” Clarke murmurs, sitting up so their faces are level, “I’m here.”

“I was twelve, Anya was fourteen. It wasn’t– it was tough.”

Clarke places a hand on Lexa’s knee. Lexa wraps her fingers around Clarke’s before continuing.

“We couldn’t– we didn’t know how to deal with it. The pain, the confusion. We didn’t understand how our parents were there one day and gone the next.”

Lexa wipes at her nose with her sleeve and looks at Clarke with red-rimmed eyes.

“Months passed and the pain hadn’t stopped. Hadn’t gotten any easier. We tried therapists, pills, support groups. But nothing seemed to work.” Lexa pauses, voice croaky. “I had to do something. I had to make the pain stop.”

Clarke just watches, eyes wide, as Lexa pulls her hand free from Clarke’s and holds it over her own wrist. She grips her sleeve and takes a shuddering breath, fingers trembling.

“This is what– this is why I freaked out the other day in the bar when you…” Her words trail off as she stares at the wall. “I’ve never showed anyone before, apart from my family.”

She keeps her eyes averted as she pulls her sleeve up. It reaches her elbow and Clarke has to fight to contain the gasp that rises to her lips when she sees what’s underneath.

Lexa’s arm is a patchwork quilt of scars. Some sit in shallow pits, white and flat like pieces of string, while others are red-hot and gnarly, twisting along her forearm like vines.

“Oh, Lexa…” Clarke’s voice breaks. She reaches out and carefully takes hold of Lexa’s arm, fingertips hovering above the scars before using her other hand to pull the sleeve back down.

Only then does Lexa look at her again, eyes watery. “I bet you hate me now.”

“How could I possibly hate you?” Clarke’s voice is gentle. “We all have scars, Lexa. Yours are just on your skin instead of your soul.”

Lexa sniffles. “You don’t think I’m a coward?” Her eyes fill with pain. “My aunt called me a coward when she found out all those years ago.”

Clarke shakes her head, wiping a tear from Lexa’s cheek. “I think you’re brave.”

“Brave?”

“Mhmm.” Clarke brushes a strand of hair behind Lexa’s ear. “You’re brave because, despite all the pain you went through, you kept going. You’re still here.”

Clarke puts her arm around Lexa and pulls her closer. “Those kids are so lucky, having someone like you to help them. Someone who really understands what they’re going through.”

This elicits the tiniest of smiles from Lexa.

“Thank you, Clarke.”

Lexa turns her body and rests her head on Clarke’s chest.

“Your heart is racing.”

Clarke swallows loudly.

“I like it. It’s soothing.”

This makes Clarke smile as she strokes Lexa’s back, feeling her finally relax against her body.

***

They stay like that for a while, until Lexa sits up and wipes her eyes with her sleeve – she forgets that she’s wearing eyeliner and ends up smearing it across her face like war paint, much to Clarke’s amusement – before heading into the bathroom to clean herself up.

She returns a few minutes later with a sheepish smile on her now-fresh face. “Honestly I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Clarke looks at her quizzically. “Why?”

Lexa makes a vague gesture towards her arm. “Tends to scare people off.”

“I don’t scare easy,” Clarke replies, and Lexa chuckles as she sits down and leans back on Clarke’s chest.

Lexa grabs the remote from beside her and switches on the television. She leaves it on some ridiculous game show and snuggles into Clarke, wrapping her arms around Clarke’s torso.

“Thank you for being here,” she mumbles, words muffled by Clarke’s shirt.

Clarke responds by planting a soft kiss on Lexa’s forehead. Then she freezes, unsure if that was crossing a line. She stays perfectly still, watching as Lexa lifts her head slowly.

“I’m sorr–”

Clarke’s apology is cut off by Lexa’s lips on hers. It’s a timid kiss, nervous and slow, but it ignites something within Clarke and she feels fireworks erupting in her chest. This lasts a few more seconds – Lexa wrapped around Clarke, Clarke kissing Lexa, Lexa letting out a tiny moan, Clarke’s hands in Lexa’s hair – and then Clarke is pulling back slowly, a dozy smile on her face.

“You were saying?” Lexa is smug, lips pink.

Clarke wants nothing more than to kiss her again. But she doesn’t want to rush this. Whatever ‘this’ is.

“That’s a very sneaky tactic,” Clarke grins, stroking along Lexa’s jaw with her thumb.

Lexa leans into her touch for a moment before leaning back, her bottom lip clenched between her teeth. “Clarke?”

“Mhmm.”

“Would you… do you want to stay over tonight? Not like, y’know, in that way,” Lexa’s words are spilling out of her mouth faster than she can breathe, “But just, y’know, to keep me company.”

Clarke gazes at Lexa for a moment. This is apparently too long a wait because Lexa starts babbling again.

“We could watch a movie if you want, uh, I have Disney movies, if you’re into that, I think Hercules just came in on Netflix, or we could order pizza, or play Monopoly, or–”

This time it’s Clarke who cuts Lexa off with a kiss. She draws her head back moments later, eyes full of adoration.

“So? Will you stay?” Lexa is sat up on her knees, awaiting Clarke’s answer.

Clarke grins, leaning forward to kiss Lexa’s nose, before whispering against Lexa’s lips: “You had me at Hercules.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's read this/commented/left kudos, it means a lot to see that people are enjoying my stuff so far :D And if you like what you've read then stick around, I'll be uploading more stuff over the summer break!

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm officially done with uni now (just gotta graduate and have them give me that Creative Writing degree yo) and I've got a long summer ahead of me, so I'm planning on uploading stuff pretty regularly on here for a while :D 
> 
> I hope y'all are enjoying what I'm writing so far!


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